


like a thorn

by enmourne



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, rika vs ray, who will conquer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmourne/pseuds/enmourne
Summary: “You must answer honestly, Ray. It suits her, doesn’t it? This dress, this place…” She can practically feel Rika’s cold smile. “Being beside me?”





	like a thorn

**Author's Note:**

> first time posting and it's just something small but hopefully will help motivate me to write longer stuff down the road! v's route gave me a WHOLE LOT of emotions...

“The world. . . People like him. . . They wish for us to hide what we truly are.” Rika says as she gently runs her fingers through MC’s hair. “Be it physical or mental. You’ll come to see that more clearly over time.” She pauses to meet her eyes through the mirror and smiles. “You’re beautiful. Light and. . . Dark. Don’t you see?” She leans forward to murmur the question in her ear, hands gliding over MC’s shoulders to adjust the front of her incredibly low-cut dress. Another unsettling smile before she steps back. “Turn for me, won’t you?”

MC hesitates, lost in her own reflection for what feels like a century before inclining her head in obedience. She stands, her long dark hair fully spilling over her back, and turns to face Rika. The dress is dark like red wine and the edges just barely meet the floor. The front plunges deeply into a high, belted waist and sheer sleeves allow hazy glimpses of her pale shoulders. She tries to keep her breathing even as Rika looks her over, wishing to mask all anxiety from those strange prying eyes. She gestures MC forward and she relents with slow steps. There is a knock then the door opens.

“Did you call for me, Savior?” An all too familiar voice. MC lifts her gaze to see Ray, unmoving as he meets her eyes.

“Ah, yes. I did.” Rika steps behind her, gently laying her hands across MC’s shoulders. “You must answer honestly, Ray. It suits her, doesn’t it? This dress, this place. . .” She can practically feel Rika’s cold smile. “Being beside me?”

She can see his hands tremble ever so slightly before curling to quell it. She wishes to push forward, to take them in her own. Rika’s grasp on her shoulders tightens as if she can sense her desires, a warning to refrain.

“I-I. . . Yes, o-of course. It does. All. . . All of it does.” He replies with rushed words, as if breathless. “MC is. . Beautiful.” She can’t quite read the look in his eyes and she wonders if he can read the one in hers; pleading and desperate, begging against misunderstandings.

“I’m glad you agree, Ray.” Rika turns that strange smile back upon her and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind MC’s ear, fingertips lingering against her cheek. “I see now why you wished to keep her here so badly, hidden away in that room of hers. She’s far too special to be a mere doll.”

He makes no move to speak or reach, eyes trained only on her. Between his indecipherable stare and Rika’s lingering touch, she feels as if she might turn to dust. Pulling away, she retreats to a window, searching for the garden in the silence.

“Are the preparations moving smoothly?” Rika asks, tilting her head to watch Ray. He seems to not hear her right away, entranced by MC’s back as she remains turned from him. A long moment passes before he comes to his senses and he immediately inclines his head, expression startled.

“Yes, Savior. No mistakes will be made this time. You will have him.” He replies with a certain edge to his voice and his eyes downcast but eager. “I promise.”


End file.
